Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, obviously…
Warnings: There's language, graphic violence (more in later chapters) and mature scenes (far off into the future may I add)...
Summary: War changed him, silenced him. Then he came back to the past. He gave himself a new name, and is set to try and get a new life in Konoha. And yet, it hurt more than he could take.
Aka, Naruto goes back in time- plus, the pairing is Kakashi x Future!Naruto. Please don't immediately launch hate just because of the pairing, especially without reading it. If you don't the pairing then click out of the tab and find a different story, which would save you much more time than bitching.
Onward with the story!
The shadows hummed. They chanted a song amidst the breathing forest and swirling waters. The buzz of the humming slipped through the musty air and swayed in the branches and leaves. The darkness was hidden yet seen. It was nowhere and everywhere at once. It suffocated the world with its terrifying whispers, manipulating all life it crossed. Happy thoughts were swept away, new, much darker ones closing in. It changed destiny and fate, changed very beings from emotions to actions and struck through the heart. It penetrated what was said to be unbreakable, unbeatable.
The horrifying touch of shadows breached the world, closing in around one person, one being that lived in darkness. He embraced its cool tendrils and grasped its freezing fingers in his own. He stayed in the deep, unforgiving hums, forever looking for light.
But there was none. In the night there was no sun. In the sky there was no moon, no stars to show the way, to guide him home and out from the blackened deep. He stayed down, drifting through nothing, just a blank, empty shell. There was nothing to fill that shell.
He hummed along with the shadows, long crimson hair curling around. He seemed to float, feet making no sound upon the soft ground, movements barely distinguishable from each other, every step marked by another with an otherworldly presence.
The landscape was unmarred by any volume except for those soft hums that resonated with the breeze. The stranger remained blank, no emotion shining on his face. He merely went on without purpose, simply living for the sake of living. Death haunted him a step behind, unhindered by the stranger, only welcoming its ominous presence.
As he travelled, the world made way.
A scarf wrapped around his head, obscuring the lower half of his face. His deep violet eyes glinted in the dark. Even though they could not see life as brightly as they used to, were merely dead, those startling violet eyes cast a gaze at every surrounding.
The traveller moved with the breeze, dead eyes set upon one destination...
Shinku, an S-Ranked mercenary to the people.
To himself, Hisato.
His former life as Namikaze-Uzumaki Naruto, the blond-haired, blue-eyed, whiskered, Number One Unpredictable Shinobi of Konoha was no more, and had been for a gruelling three months. Out of all the names he had to choose, it were the ironic ones. Uzumaki, he had kept, because his waist-length red hair was unmistakable. His eyes had changed to a deep, glassy violet hue, and pupils forever slit like that of a fox. His canines were elongated, but not overly so. For a 24 year-old, he looked fairly young for his age, and was also shorter than the average man.
He had chosen his new name with resigned vigour. Kioshi meant silent, and he had very much become mute. The last he had spoken were many a year ago, and he had forgotten his own voice. It didn't trouble him as much as he thought it would, being one to express himself through words. War did that to people. His name, Hisato meant long lived, or long life, befitting of some who was so hard to kill.
Thinking back on it, Hisato wondered how he was still alive. Kurama had plenty to do with that, even after he had given the last of his endless chakra and faded away. Every wound the Uzumaki received was quick to heal.
It was a blessing to one who needed to live and protect his people; a curse to one who wanted nothing more to do with a war-torn world.
He had no purpose to fight any longer. It had vanished when the war ended and he was thrust back in time. But violence was a necessary thing, even in this time of piece. It was a brutal reminder of reality, a cruel thing that pacifists like he and Itachi were forced to use.
And here he was, travelling to his home, where all his precious people were still alive and waiting, yet not. Because though they bore the same faces, and same mannerisms, they were not his people, the people he had spent over a decade fighting to protect.
Konoha's gates were a tall existence, barring the view of outsiders from the world within. At its feet, two familiar shinobi stood.
Kotetsu and Izumo eyed him as he cleared the rim of the forest and approached them with a firm gait. He kept his hood up, hiding his scarred face from view.
Kotetsu cleared his throat, "State your business here." Hisato did not speak. He reached within his cloak slowly, and pulled out a folded note. Izumo took it, cautious, and skimmed through its contents. His eyes widened and he thrust the sheet into his partner's hand. Kotetsu had a similar reaction.
"Uzumaki," he whispered disbelievingly. Hisato nodded and before they could question him more, he untucked a long braid from his hood, letting the silky tail rest outside his cloak. The two shinobi stared at it.
Time slipped by until the sun set, and Hisato waited patiently.
He sensed a very familiar chakra signature closing in from behind, and twisted around to meet the newcomer, Hatake Kakashi. The jounin came to a halt a few feet away, visible eye resting on the unveiled hair. His silver hair was the only part of Kakashi that looked fresh. His attire was rumpled and slightly stained, face-mask firmly in placed and slanted hitai-ate drooping. He remained undeterred by the Uzumaki hair, though his eye showed otherwise, flaring a bit in surprise.
"Kotetsu, Izumo, the shinobi will come with me. Don't worry, I can keep my eye on him." The shinobi returned to their posts with stiff knees, whilst the Hatake led Hisato through the open gates and into Konohagakure.
As they walked through the quiet streets, the Uzumaki tucked in his hair. He spied the jounin walking in a relaxed state. Mirroring the pace, he reached his hands out from his cloak. Kakashi faced him warily, and watched as he signed, [Arigato]. His escort merely nodded in return and they basked in a comfortable silence.
"Are you well acquainted with Uchiha Itachi?" Kakashi asked hesitantly, clearing the silence. The hesitance was understandable. Never pry into a shinobi's private life, especially a stranger.
Hisato nodded slowly. At Kakashi's suspicious gaze, he sighed. His hands flew through signs, knowing the jounin could understand. [Itachi is a good person. He was put into a tight spot and made a hard decision, that is all.] Kakashi hummed and became deep in thought.
The Hokage Tower appeared high before them. The lights were on and flickering brightly in the top floors. Hisato could sense the ANBU stationed in the Tower. Many shinobi were going in and out the front doors, missions completed or just beginning. Kakashi set up the wall, hands in his pockets. Hisato smiled and followed him, shuddering at the nostalgia.
He calmed his breathing, knowing that the Sandaime, his grandfather figure, awaited him in his office. And that whilst he knew the Hokage, the Hokage would not recognise him. At this moment, he was a potential enemy and threat to the village.
The windows showed a tired, old man at his desk. Surrounding him were multitudes of paperwork stacks. The old man was breathing out, pipe held aloft and releasing smoke rings into the air. Kakashi flared his chakra twice and jumped through the window. He briefly explained the situation to the Hokage and signalled for him to come in. Jiji, Hisato thought solemnly, shooting to Kakashi's side.
He bowed deeply, ignoring the well hidden shock that spiked in the room at his speed. He kept his eyes down, averting from the Hokage's penetrating stare. He rose and dared to meet that old gaze.
Eyes were on him as he signed [Request for privacy. My information must remain secret. The scarecrow can stay.] The jounin beside him twitched in annoyance. Hiruzen flicked his hand and the ANBU disappeared completely. Seals flashed, containing sound within the room and preventing eavesdroppers.
Hisato raised his hands and lifted the hood from his face. It fell back to reveal his red hair, seemingly stained with darker shades that resembled blood. Dull violet eyes remained carefully blank of emotion. They recognised the shape of his features as strikingly similar to that of Kushina, though his outline was sharper. Kakashi stared at his hair. It was the Uzumaki hair and Kitsune fur combined, in thin highlights of light and dark red.
He felt their eyes on the faint scars across his neck, one vertically from the right of his chin to his collarbone, the other horizontal at the top of his throat, like someone had tried and almost succeeded in slitting his throat to spill his lifeblood.
Hiruzen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "No doubt you're an Uzumaki. What is your name, boy?" he asked. Hisato approached the desk and fished out a brush, ink and paper from within his cloak. He dipped the brush, and wrote fluidly, characters appearing on the page in the spurt of a moment. He stepped back and let them read.
"Kioshi? Silent. How fitting," Kakashi muttered.
"Well, Hisato, what brings you to Konohagakure?"
The Uzumaki bowed his head. [I am looking for home.] Not a home. It could never be just a home. This place was his world, a world that he had lost once before.
He tried to stop the emotions swirling out of him, knowing that the two shinobi in the room might sense them. Those emotions told a story of long years absent from home, only searching. And here he was, at a place resembling his home, but all alone, not a precious person left in his sight.
The Sandaime Hokage smiled. There was empathy interlaced in the smile. The old man got out of his chair and crossed the room. Hisato fought not to flinch when hands suddenly grasped his shoulders in comfort.
"Then, perhaps, you can complete your search here," Hiruzen said, ever gentle. "Please, tell me about yourself." Can I trust you?
Hisato sat down and signed to the two that his home had been destroyed. He had fled and for the last few years had been looking for a new place to belong. Konoha was the only place he felt that way, as it had been where his 'cousin', Kushina, had lived for the majority of her life.
"We need strong shinobi like you," the Hokage began. "Would you do me the honour of becoming a ninja of Konoha?" Hisato's eyes widened. He felt relief flood through him. I'm home, I'm home, I can call this place home again. He nodded, tears slowly filling his eyes. A hitai-ate was placed in his hand, but he could barely see it. He clasped his fingers over it, holding it reverently.
"You are now a jounin of Konohagakure no Sato. Do you declare utmost loyalty to your village? Would you not hesitate to die for it?" A small flame lit in his eyes. The Will of Fire. He nodded, not bothering to sign. It was not needed.
Sarutobi was left alone in his office, the quiet as his only company. Uzumaki, eh?
He sighed at the reminder of the clan's annihilation. They had been their allies for countless years, and yet Konoha could do nothing but stand by and watch as the powerful clan was slaughtered mercilessly.
It seems Kushina was not the only Uzumaki to remain alive post the carnage.
It's Hi no Kuni. But it's not. It's Konohagakure, but not. In place of the once beautiful village was only a rancid landscape of war.
Gore and lost souls were the rulers of this world, a world governed by lust and violence instead of one of love and peace.
The fighting was all for naught. People were losing hope, losing friends and family. The count of survivors was dimming by hundreds every day and every hour. There were a bare few left. Only two, perhaps.
Konoha was last to perish in this one-sided war against Madara. Why had it come to this? They were winning, Naruto was sure they were. Then the ancient Uchiha was back and the tide was turned once again.
He and Sakura stood back to back in one last effort to win, though their hopes were dimmer than ever. Kurama had given up the last of his endless chakra to give them strength.
The clones came from all sides. Flashes of white amidst the land of ash and soot. The ease in which he and Sakura struck down enemies was worsening. They were tired. Dreadfully tired.
Exhaustion ached at their bones and muscles. Their minds were worn from the horrors of the seven-year war. The death of their comrades, the destruction of their precious home.
The gear that protected them lay tattered and bloodied on the rubble. His shirt had split at so many seams. Sakura was down to the thinnest layer of her underclothes, reinforced tights barely covering her thighs.
Naruto sliced down another wave of zetsu clones. His wind chakra cut its way into the bodies, and the nine-tails chakra made them sprout into trees. The only trees in a place famous for its forest. Behind him, he heard Sakura's battle cry and the tearing of the earth beneath.
Hours on end, they fought. Well into the night, red moon glittering dimly above them, and still they fought.
Their exhaustion increased. And yet they could not stop. They fought for their future and for each other, the bond of brother and sister the only thing they had left.
Naruto spared a glance to Sakura's crimson hair and yellow eyes. He fingered his own red hair before shooting a suiton jutsu at the clones. Kurama's chakra had changed them physically. The natural colour of their eyes and Kurama's had mixed.
The pain of his worn out body was close to unbearable. He shook his head to clear the dizziness and looked around desperately. Sakura was far away, a massive horde of zetsu upon her.
No, no, no, he chanted. He pushed his legs to sprint, to reach her in time.
She took down a dozen with feeble punches. The distance between them seemed so achingly long. His hands began to shake from how helpless and weak he felt.
This is not the end, he thought. Please don't.
He watched as a killing blow came at Sakura. She collapsed to her knees, defeated. The clone's fist sharpened to a blade. It flew to her chest. He tried to sprint faster but it was utterly futile.
NO! He wanted to scream as she was impaled. Naruto tried to deny it, the unfairness of it all. His outstretched hand fell limp. He forced himself to stay upright and a new emotion emerged within him. Rage.
New energy fizzed in him and his chakra reacted to the icy anger. It surged around him in a red bubble of power.
The clones were knocked out instantly, trees sprouting up and filling the torn area. His chakra dispersed as grief overtook his rage. Tears sprang to his eyes because it was his sister and the last precious person he had left. He turned his eyes from the gaping hole in her chest and the blood that spilt out despite Sakura's hand over it. He dropped beside her and gently moved her into his lap.
Sakura, he tried to start, but no sound came out. Her name sat burning in the back of his throat. She just glanced at him, a soft smile on her bloodied face. He scrunched his eyes closed and bowed his head, silent sobs escaping. A cool hand rested on his cheek. Naruto forced his eyes open, vision glazed from tears.
"I'm sorry. That bastard got me," she laughed but the sound ended in a fit of coughs. Naruto wanted her to stop talking, to save her strength, but she was dying and it was pointless to hope. He let out a shuddering breath and held onto her hand. "Please don't cry, Naruto. I can send you back in time, just as the furball showed me." He barely registered her words. He tried to speak, to say he was sorry too but he knew he couldn't.
Sakura died, he wanted to die too. There was nothing left to live for.
Sensing his thoughts, she continued, "Tomorrow, the sun will rise, just as the moon will go down. The birds will sing, the forest will breathe as it always has." Naruto almost laughed, what forest? What birds? "Life is bright and unyielding, even when all seems so dark and you haven't a shred of hope left."
He shuddered with his quiet weeping and his hand tightened around Sakura's. Why are you saying this? You can't die!
"Don't give up," she said, and the words stuck in his mind, "Don't falter. Promise me that, promise me." Her voice was strong even through the pain. And when she finally passed on, eyes closing slowly and body going limp, Naruto could do nothing but promise her.
When the light of her final jutsu was cast around him, he bowed his head once again, full of respect and regret.
As she passed on, he couldn't even say I love you.